


In Perfect Balance

by Scruggzi



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: But Not Much, F/M, Fluff, Introspection, Lil' bit o' smut, Not-exactly-marriage, Wingwalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 22:43:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12874623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scruggzi/pseuds/Scruggzi
Summary: Every year on September 6th Jack finds a way to surprise Phryne, in honour of her first romantic overture...





	In Perfect Balance

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Whopooh and Ollyjay for betaing - throws confetti and thank you sandwiches in your general direction

“Jack, where are we going?”

The sedate pace of the motorcar was close to driving Phryne mad, even with the scarf bound over her eyes she could feel her Inspector stubbornly adhering to the rules of the road.

“I would have thought you’d have worked that out by now.”

Jack turned the wheel and Phryne felt the transition from smooth road to rough ground. She hmphed in irritation, “Even Hugh was keeping quiet this year, and I can’t believe you managed to turn Mr. Butler against me.”

She could practically hear his smirk at that despite her blindfold. There was a slight crunch as the car stopped, Phryne sniffed, catching the scent of aviation fuel and dry grass, she smiled – so that was where they were.

“The airfield? I should have known.”

Jack reached over to unbind her eyes; even after all this time, the way he had of - oh so carefully - not touching her, the subtle promise of future pleasure in his deft fingers, made her breath catch as a delicious shiver ran over her skin.

“There’s more, although at this point I do have to ask a favour.”

“Well, I’m a generous woman Jack, but I can’t promise it won’t cost you later.” Her eyes and the lilt of her voice left him in no doubt of the kind of payment she planned to exact and he had to fight hard to keep his face serious as he answered.

“A terrifying prospect. Can I borrow your plane?”

Phryne’s face split into an enormous grin, her wide eyes glittering in the spring sunshine.

“You got your licence? When did this happen and how on earth did you manage to keep it a secret?”

“A vast and complex conspiracy, I’m frankly amazed we pulled it off. Shall we?”

Jack gestured towards the hangar where Phryne’s plane was already being wheeled out by Mr Jenkins, the resident engineer.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” she asked, fully impressed by her partner’s efforts.

“Don’t tell me your legendary powers of deduction have deserted you, Miss Fisher.”

He exited the car and crossed over to open Phryne’s door, taking her hand as she stepped lightly down onto the grass. She spun in his arms, reaching up to kiss him swiftly on the lips.

“I was attempting to employ my equally legendary powers of persuasion.”

Jack, however was unmoved. “Clearly, I’ve acquired an immunity over the years, must have been a survival instinct.”

“Hmm, well I’ll have to do something about that.” She nodded over towards the plane which was now waiting for them on the runway. “How long will I have to strategise?”

He smirked and shook his head at her transparent attempt to wheedle information out of him, but couldn’t resist returning her kiss with interest. It was here, five years ago, that he had kissed her for the first time with real intent. Here that he had decided that he would rather risk everything and follow his heart than spend the rest of his life wondering what would have happened if he had. It hadn’t always been easy, but he didn’t regret a moment.

It had become a tradition, on September 6th, for him to try and surprise her; he loved that even after all this time he still could. The first year it had been a trip to Luna Park for ice cream and another ride on the Great Scenic Railway. The second it had been a weekend in Queenscliff, this one blessedly free from murder. He couldn’t resist Anthony and Cleopatra when he found out it was playing, although he had not managed to keep that one a secret, she had guessed when she spotted the listing in the paper. Last year he had taken her dancing at the Green Mill, a risky venture if his superiors ever found out about it, but well worth it for the look on her face, not to mention the feel of her pressed against him as they danced, making him the envy of every man in the room.

This year marked a full five years since that all to brief farewell and he wanted to do something special. Something to thank her for every day since and all the others yet to come.

Apparently deciding she was not going to get their destination out of him, Phryne gave up and headed over to the plane, standing by the propeller ready to start her up. Jack grabbed a small bag from the boot and extracted hats and goggles, handing a set to Phryne before jumping into the back seat and starting the motor.

“Contact.”

“Contact.”

The thrum of the propeller always sent a shiver of excitement through her, it was the sound of adventure, of danger, of new and exciting things. The first time she had taken Jack up in her plane was on the return home from England. She had half expected him to be scared, even if he wouldn’t admit it, especially given his rather vocal criticism of her driving. Instead he had taken to it at once, and so enthusiastically that his maiden flight had also been his first piloting lesson. Unfortunately, despite her mostly sound investments, the economic downturn had not left Phryne entirely unaffected and she had had to sell that plane once they had returned to Melbourne. She had only been able to replace it this year and they had resumed his education at once – she was going to have some stern words with her friends in the aviation world for not tipping her off about his licence. Still, if her financial situation remained stable, perhaps she could invest in a second plane, it wouldn’t do to allow any doubt to surround the question of which of them was the better flyer and was possible that her powers of persuasion might extend to a race.

The ground had dropped away and they could see Melbourne stretched out below them like a map; conversation in the air was next to impossible so they continued in silence, Jack frowning in concentration, Phryne glorying in the rush of the wind against her skin, bringing with it the salt tang of the bay. They were heading south west, cutting inland away from the river on a course which would eventually lead back to the coast. The sparkling water retreated and they sailed over sun-drenched farm and bushland, broken up in places by small towns and villages. There was nothing much out this way that suggested an obvious destination; perhaps he was taking her somewhere new.

Phryne craned her head around to look at Jack, his face serious, that beautiful, strong jaw set as he kept them level. He really was an excellent pilot, unsurprising really, he had had a marvellous teacher. She blew him a kiss just to see the little twitch of his lips as he smiled. Deciding it was unwise to distract him whilst they were airborne, she turned reluctantly back around and resumed her appreciation of the landscape.

Air travel did not normally lead to introspection for Phryne, in fact it was a state of mind she generally avoided if she could possibly help it. Now though, without the need to focus on flying she found her thoughts beginning to wander. It had become his little tradition to do something special for her on this day, every year since 1929, when she had dared him to follow her out into the blue and he had kissed her on her way - still half a step behind but fast catching up. He had arrived in London, exhausted from his journey and more than a little apprehensive about what he might find. She had taken one look at his face and launched herself into his arms with such force she knocked his hat off; kissing him over and over, certain in that moment that she never wanted to stop. She had been well and truly caught, she should have felt resentful, but somehow it only made her happy.

There had been compromises and they had not been easy. Both of them were used to making decisions entirely for themselves, as their lives wove ever closer together, sacrifices had to be made. They would never marry, it was more than she could give; he could not be one of many, it was more than he could bear. She was often too reckless, he too protective; there had been a few blazing rows which had shaken the ceiling at Wardlow till the paint split. Always, they seemed to come out stronger on the other side; somehow they had found their balance. And every year he kept this anniversary, a precious little thank you for continuing to choose him and this wonderful, unexpected life they had made together.

Phryne caught the word as it flickered without warning across her consciousness. Anniversary. Their anniversary. Well that’s what it was. How had she managed to end up with one of those despite categorically never having had a wedding? If one has an anniversary, does it follow that one is in a marriage – for a given value of marriage? It was possible. Perhaps this is what a marriage could be, in a fairer world, one with gentler laws and less contemptuous of women. She probed her feelings delicately like a loose tooth, finding a certain ambivalence; she had an innate distaste for the mundane and the predictable, marriage, along with all of its unpleasant associations with duty and ownership, had always seemed to fall into that category. She would always prefer the enticing, the exciting and the dangerous, to the safe, the easy and secure; yet here she was, winging her way to an unknown destination with her lover, who had surprised her yet again, this time by learning how to fly.

She turned around again to look at him, her partner, her single pillar, her safe place to land that gave her the strength to fly ever higher, ever further. Nothing about this partnership could be called mundane, but there was a certain safety to be found in trust. It was not the dull safety of the easy option, it was the firm ground that allowed for a swift take-off and an easy landing.

Jack met her gaze, the light reflecting off his goggles, “I can hold her steady if you feel like taking a stroll.” He gestured towards the wing.

Phryne laughed, wing-walking. Of all the ideas. She was hardly about to resist a challenge like that and after a certain amount of manoeuvring, she hoisted herself out of her seat and stood up. The wind whipped at her scarf and the sunlight caught the gleam of the swallow still pinned to it. Up here, flying so high and free it felt as if the whole sky belonged to them and them alone, her heart raced in excitement and exhilaration as together they held their balance, risking everything in perfect safety.

***

They set down on a clifftop overlooking Portland Bay, far enough from the town to keep out of the way of any curious onlookers. The clearing where they had landed was surrounded on the landward side by woodland and the screeching of the gannets, mingled with the softer cries of the woodland birds and the rustle of the sea breeze in the leaves of the trees. The sun was still warm, but had begun to slip slowly down the horizon, turning the sea to silver as the waves broke in an unending rhythm against the shore. After the excitement of their flight, the place held a welcome and all-encompassing sense of peace that took Phryne’s breath away.

Jack switched off the engine and jumped down from the pilot’s seat, his coat fanning out behind him, flashing the red of the lining. He offered Phryne his hand as she exited gracefully from the front of the plane.

“Would you care for some supper, Miss Fisher? Mr Butler was good enough to pack us a basket.”

“I knew it! He was far too evasive when I tried to coax the details out of him. The pair of you have been in league all along!”

“Guilty. Although I’d wait until you see what he’s packed us before you start plotting your revenge.”

“It’s you who can be effectively bribed with food, Jack Robinson. I think you’ll find I am much more of a challenge to placate.”

Entirely unconvinced by her complaints, Jack pulled her close and kissed her deep and slow, teasing her tongue with his, tempting her, the solid weight of his hand in her hair and against her waist. Phryne was fairly convinced you could drown in his kisses, they filled her up with something that went beyond love and beyond want. Some alchemy that made her feel at once adrift and grounded, the high-speed rush of falling in an eternal orbit and never touching ground.

He pulled back, a little breathless, his eyes slightly glazed, managing to get a grip on himself before he gave in to his baser instincts and pulled her down for a tumble in the grass. Not that she would have minded, but he wanted see how well the final part of this plan was going to go over with her first, there was a chance this was all about to spectacularly backfire. He smiled at the dreamy, contented expression on her face, smoothing the hair away from her eyes where it had been caught by the wind.

“Am I forgiven?”

“Provisionally.”

“Good, help me with the blankets.”

There was a small storage compartment in the plane, and Jack reached up to extract one large picnic hamper, a blanket, two bed rolls and a tarpaulin, passing them down to Phryne who spread the blanket out a little way from the plane where they would have a better view over the bay, stacking up the bed rolls to give them something to rest against.

“I take it we’re spending the night, Inspector?”

“Only if you want to, it’s been a long time since we slept out under the stars.”

Phryne nodded, smiling a little at the memory. “Remember the first time, those nasty cross winds outside Calcutta?”

“I remember we didn’t do much sleeping,” he smirked, “ and I will never know how you managed to land without killing us both.”

“You’re pretty good yourself, you know.”

“Thankyou. Mr Jenkins is an excellent teacher.”

She shot him a sarcastic look that suggested he better get on with the lunch before her wrath was invoked. They sat down on the blanket and, taking the hint, Jack reached over to extract a bottle of champagne and two glasses from the basket, popping the cork and pouring Phryne’s first.

“Shall we drink to your newfound expertise, Inspector?”

“And to a wonderful, if somewhat distracting instructor.”

“Really, I shall have to have words with him.”

He touched his glass to hers, no longer teasing and said seriously, “I never imagined I could do anything like this before I met you.”

“Well I do pride myself on my ability to lead you astray. You had your feet firmly on the ground when we first met.”

“But you thought you could win me over?”

“Yes, well you certainly didn’t make it easy.”

“You would have tired of me within five minutes if I had.”

She tipped her head to the side in a minute acknowledgement of his point and drained her glass, snuggling close to him and resting her head on his shoulder.   

“I think you’ve outdone yourself this year, Jack. You know I adore our anniversary adventures.”

Jack looked down at her surprised; once, long ago she had teased him with that idea, but it was unusual for her to talk like that about their relationship now. For a time her refusal to even consider marriage had been a cause of tension between them, so the casual comparison did not escape his notice.

“Not quite up to an engraved pocket watch yet but I’m working on it.”

She snuggled closer into his chest, not entirely sure if she should share the thoughts that had occupied her during their flight; it had been a long time since the subject of marriage had come up between them and they had not exactly been comfortable discussions.

“Do you still regret it? That we never got married?”

She hadn’t exactly meant it to come out so bluntly but there the question was and she couldn’t take it back now.

Jack frowned. “Why, having second thoughts?” he had made his peace on that subject and had enough perspective by this time not to return to a long finished argument, surprised as he was by the question.

“Not exactly.”

Now he was truly confused, but there was nothing for it but to pull on this thread and find out what she was driving at.

“Phryne?”

“I’ve never been one to stand still, Jack, I hate to be predictable.”

She seemed to be struggling with something and Jack started to feel a little nervous, maybe these gestures were a little too much for her, for all she seemed to enjoy them, but she was holding him tight and the familiar feel of her hand was a soothing weight against his chest.

“Would you like me to stop?” he tried to keep his voice steady but truly he was hurt by the idea. This little tradition meant a lot to him. It was his way of thanking her, for all the light and joy she brought to his life, but if she didn’t want it, perhaps it didn’t mean the same to her. The thought made him feel oddly lonely, even as he held her in his arms.

“No, not at all. I was thinking, we somehow managed to find all of the best parts of a marriage. Just, without the paperwork.”

Joy, blossomed through him and Jack felt the insidious little doubts dissipate, burying his face in her hair and breathing in the scent of leather and jasmine, feeling the dark, silky strands brush against the tender skin of his lips as his kissed her. It was exactly how he felt, although he had never given voice to the thought, worried she might take it the wrong way. 

“Well,” his voice as he replied was a little cracked but he was smiling, “you know how I feel about paperwork.”

“So you don’t regret it?” she asked again, unwilling to let the matter lie now she had brought it up.

“No, I don’t - I don’t think you were made to be any man’s wife, and, I think I’d rather be your partner than your husband in any case.”

It was her turn to smile, tilting her head back to meet his eyes now the question was safely answered.

“You would?”

He nodded seriously, “Plausible deniability.”

She glared at him and he held up a hand in supplication, shifting her weight so he could refill their glasses whilst pondering his response.

“You remember the Salinger case, when we were stuck in that warehouse?”

“God, how could I forget?” She shuddered, they had barely made it out, and not without a scratch. She had sprained a wrist pulling Jack out of the line of fire but it hadn’t been enough to avoid the flesh wound, he still had the scar.

“You saved my life.”

“You’ve done the same for me.”

“I’m not sure how I’d feel about leading my wife into that kind of danger, but, up against it like that, there’s no-one I’d rather have by my side than you.”

The honest declaration caused a prickle at the corner of her eyes. It had taken a long time, far longer than the issue of marriage, for Jack to truly accept her as his protector in times of danger. That role – the good man who stood in defense of others - was such a bone deep part of him. This was a declaration of love greater than any little adventure on the wing and Phryne knew it. Darling man. She was just going to have to keep him, there really was nothing else for it.

Thinking it a safer bet than trying to speak, Phryne set her glass down and applied her full attention to kissing Jack Robinson senseless. This resulted in a certain amount of wasted champagne and the urgent need to remove his now sodden shirt. A terrible hardship all round. Her smile turned wicked as she remembered that night outside Calcutta long ago, when they had set up their makeshift camp beneath the spreading branches of a fig tree and made love till morning under unfamiliar stars.

She pushed him down onto the blanket, intent on making sure that he was in no doubt that the passion between them burned as hot today as it did the first time they had made love; a desperate frenzy of fire and feeling after too long apart and too long a wait. She kissed him deep and intense, her hands moving to his belt, Jack responded at once, pulling up her skirt to reveal knee high leather flight boots – of which he was especially fond – and unhooking her woolen stockings so he could dispense with her knickers.

His fingers found her with easy confidence, searching out her most sensitive places with the practiced dexterity of one who has spent years learning every way to make his lover shake and scream. Phryne panted out his name as she pulled him free, tracing the familiar and well-loved contours of his cock as he hardened in her hand. Straddling him, she guided him inside her, leaning down to kiss him, pouring every part of herself into him, choosing him today as she had done every day since she had left him at that airfield, and as she planned to do every day after.

He felt her body clench as she came, shattering the tranquility of the clearing with an inarticulate shout of ecstasy that caused a flight of birds to rise from a nearby treetop. He rolled them over, covering them with the coat he was still wearing, his hands roaming under her shirt to tease the sharp points of her nipples as he kissed and licked at her neck and jaw. His hips kept up a steady rhythm that drew sharp breaths from the back of her throat. The endless dance between them filled them up until all rational thought and reason was gone, replaced by nothing but this certainty of this connection, against which even the solid ground beneath them paled to ephemera and irrelevance.

Phryne’s second climax was a glowing, molten thing, a slow building detonation that drew Jack with her into bliss. Speechless, he wrapped them in his coat, giving them time to float back down to earth, as, high above, the friendly stars of home blossomed sharp against the darkling sky, suspended in perfect balance above the shifting, restless sea.


End file.
